


jealous

by brainyisalwayssexy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Christmas at the Wealseys, F/M, Jealousy, Male OC - Freeform, My Idiot Son Remus, POV Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brainyisalwayssexy/pseuds/brainyisalwayssexy
Summary: Remus tells Tonks to find someone else. And she actually does, to his immediate regret.Takes place during the Half Blood Prince book.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 22
Kudos: 49





	jealous

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happens post confession of feelings, during that denial and avoidance period they have, whenever that happens in the book canon. 
> 
> Anyways! Wanted to write some jealous Remus. Enjoy! :) 

The next time Remus sees her, it’s at the Weasley’s annual Christmas party. 

They’d not spoken for six months. Frankly, given the circumstances of their last conversation, he doesn’t think he’d know _what_ to say to her. What he even _can_ say, without giving too much of himself away.

But any attempt he would have made gets shut down when she walks through the door and he realizes --

She’s brought a date. 

And as for any attempts at reconciliation -- 

well, he’s far too _late_.

* * *

They look great together. _Really_ , they do.

* * *

Remus can’t be bothered to learn his name. Misses it, amid a set of hasty introductions, but it doesn’t matter, anyways.

_No._

What _matters_ is that he’s everything Remus ever dreaded, his complete opposite in every way: young, smart, and handsome. 

Not _broken_ , in any sense of the word. 

No, completely and utterly _whole_.

(Something he could _never_ be, anyways.)

* * *

There’s an enchanted mistletoe following everyone around. A new test concept from Fred and George, because _of_ **_course_ ** _they’ve got enchanted mistletoe_.

(The boys are geniuses, but he hates it, really. For no fault of their own.)

Because he _knows_ what’s about to happen. And he can’t bear to see it, when it happens.

* * *

Eventually, it hovers over Tonks and her date. As he’d always _expected_ it would.

His stomach twists when he sees him kiss her. As he watches her lean in, wrap a hand around his cheek, pull him closer.

After what feels like an eternity, they pull apart, to hoots and cheers. Sounds he has to do his best to ignore.

“Pour me another glass of whiskey,” Remus mutters, and he can _feel_ Arthur’s probing eyes on him, searching for a reaction of some sort. Does his best to stare at a noncommittal spot on the wall, not wanting to see the man’s look of sympathy or pity or both.

* * *

Tonks notices, eventually. That’s he’s taking special care, not just to avoid her, but to make jagged side-comments about her date, when he thinks she’s out of ear-shot.

And yes, he’s being sloppy, more than that. Discretion is not his forte, at the present moment.

He’s let envy get the best of him. It’s embarrassing, actually. 

(After all, she was _never_ his to begin with.)

But for once in his life -- he doesn’t _care_. 

* * *

Her date has to leave the party a little early. Makes mention of something to do with early hours, serious Auror duties. Boring, _honorable_ things. Whatever.

Remus doesn’t care, anyways. Because he doesn’t give a _damn_ about him.

_Right?_

Right.

* * *

Tonks grabs him by the elbow, pulls him into an empty room. 

He staggers after her, the influence of one too many drinks washing over him now, and suddenly he’s gasping for air.

She shuts the door behind them before she turns to him, and when he’s finally able to meet her eyes she looks nothing less than _furious_ \-- 

“Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m **not** being weird,” he protests feebly, even though it’s a lie and an obvious one at that.

“Yes, you _are_ .” she mutters, followed by something that’s a half-explanation, of sorts, not that she really even _owes_ him one -- 

“We just started going out. A few weeks ago.”

“Ah.” He does his best to look disinterested, but he _knows_ Tonks can see right through him. 

(As she’s _always_ been able to, for better or for worse.)

She frowns.

“What’s gotten _into_ you, Remus?”, and then, a whisper --

“ _You_ were the one who told me to move on. _I have!_ ”

“He’s not _good_ for you, Tonks…” he starts, and he _immediately_ regrets it.

She steps closer, eyes flashing in anger.

“That’s _bollocks_ and you know it!”

Remus tries to argue, but she cuts him off before he can.

“ _No_ !” she snaps. “I _am_ happy. He _makes_ me happy.”

“ _Good!_ ” he retaliates, all the pent-up anger and bitterness seeping like venom into his words. “That’s all I’ve _ever_ wanted for you, Tonks.”

And he _knows_ it’s unfair. Knows that he's being a right _git_.

But he just can’t be arsed to give a _damn_ , anymore.

Because this is too much. Because actually _seeing_ her with someone else is a _thousand_ times more painful than he’d ever imagined it to be.

She lets out a low laugh, though there’s no humor in her voice. 

“You know what’s the _worst_ part, Remus?”

He waits for her to continue.

“He’s everything you told me to find. And yet, _I still want you_.”

She looks sad, then. More worn down than he’s ever seen her.

“And I _know_ you want me too. You just won’t admit it.”

He says nothing in response. Doesn’t trust himself, right now.

Focuses, instead, on staring at a spot on the peeling wallpaper, as if in a drunken stupor. Pretends he hasn’t heard her, to hide the way his heart is racing, the way his blood is boiling. He's almost _angry_ at her, suddenly.

It’s unfathomable: she still wants him? After _everything?_

How could that _be?_

But it doesn’t matter. He _can’t_ have her. He knows that.

Remus swears she can hear his thoughts, at this point. Because now _she’s_ the one who looks exasperated, her anger returning as quickly as it had subsided. 

“For _Merlin’s sake!”_ she seethes, grabbing hold of the front of his robes. “What will it take to get an _honest_ reaction out of you, Remus?” 

And he doesn’t know if it’s the whiskey in his bloodstream or the anger or frustration or _pain_ bubbling so damn close to the surface, but suddenly he leans down and kisses her. 

It’s not right. Not what she deserves from him, not even _close_. 

He kisses her something frantic, rough, _desperate_ . Pours every last bit of misplaced want and hurt and _need_ into it.

But despite all that, she kisses him back. Wraps one hand in his hair.

It’s a few seconds, if that, but it’s enough for him to realize what he’s doing, how truly _wrong_ it is. To pull back, to pull away. Still angry, still hurting.

“Is that _honest enough_ for you?” he snaps, because _God_ , he doesn’t know what else to _say_. 

What else to _do_.

Because he still wants her, even if he can’t have her. 

And maybe that’s horribly selfish of him -- no, he _knows_ it is -- but he’s at his wit’s end, now.

Tonks shudders. Sighs, before her next words --

 _“No_.”

He frowns, at a loss, suddenly. Repeats the words back to her -- 

_“No?”_

They’re at a stalemate, now. What else could she possibly want from him?

“ _No_.” she repeats, slowly. “You don’t get to do this to me.”

A pause, as she gathers her thoughts.

“Because you still won’t change your mind.”

She shakes her head. Finishes the words that have started to form in his mind, despite himself --

“Because nothing I say or do will _ever_ make you change your mind. Isn’t that _right_ , Remus?”

And looking into her face, her pretty features turned so desperately sad again, he’s tempted, for once, to give in.

It would be so _easy_ to say that he’s changed his mind. To give her and him all that he wants, all that she _thinks_ she wants. 

To be completely and utterly _selfish_ , for once.

But this is _war_ , even if the facades of holiday cheer and merriment pretend otherwise. 

The second one he’s lived through. Quite possibly the last.

And he _knows_ his life is doomed. _Knows_ , his fate is sealed. As it has been, all along, for a creature like him. 

Doomed, to be always feared and eternally damned. A half-life, full of pain and suffering. Nothing more, nothing less.

So he lies. Or rather, he tells the truth.

“You’re right again, my dear. I will **not** change my mind.”

  
  


Tonks finally lets go of his robes. Chokes down a proper sob, one that breaks his heart, snaps the damn thing in two. 

“I’m _sorry_ , Dora,” he murmurs, and then, another prayer, half-hearted though it is -- 

“I hope he can make you happy. Really, I do.”

She cries, but says nothing.

He leaves without a goodbye. Tries to ignore the sound of her falling to the ground, as he closes the door behind him.

It’s better this way. Really.

She’ll realize that, one day.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment! The best way I can document what worked in a fic and what didn't, and if anyone liked it aha. 😅 Thanks again! 💕


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